Wednesday, September 10, 2014

OKLAHOMA!: Blu-ray (Magna Theatre Corp. 1955) Fox Home Video

I get a queer twinge of irony coursing through my veins every time I
watch Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Oklahoma!
(1955); chiefly, because I can’t set aside the fact those golden rays of sunshine
and vast, bucolic spaces I’m basking in are actually Arizona country, not
Oklahoma territory; also, because I can’t help but think about the sort of
movie musical Oklahoma! might have
been, if produced just a few short years later, and, with a different director
at its helm. Fred Zinnemann is a superior technician, as both the Todd A-O and
Cinemascope versions of Oklahoma!attests. But he isn’t in tune – literally
– with the demands of this socially conscious musical theater; neither with the
pacing nor staging of a big and splashy Hollywood musical. Regrettably, the
song and dance sequences in the film painfully illustrate this shortcoming. In
general, Hollywood always did much better creating their own homegrown
musicals, generally, cut from the traditional ‘boy meets girl’ ilk. In hindsight, Oklahoma! as conceived by Rodgers and Hammerstein is just too ambitious
for Hollywood – even if half the creative brain trust toiling to bring it to
the screen hailed from Broadway origins. Instead, Zinnemann and company are
attempting a bit of the impossible: to straddle the chasm between those
irreconcilable realms of stagecraft and more light-hearted movie
pop-u-tainments.

Running 2 ½
hrs., Oklahoma!(its focus on reproducing
the ‘stage experience’ including an
overture, entr’acte and exit music) earmarked the decade’s foray into the roadshow
presentation, soon to engulf the 1960’s with its’ too oft’ vacuous
elephantiasis. What we get in Oklahoma! is therefore something of a
show; the proscenium of ‘traditional theater’ never breached; the bug-eyed lens
of the Todd A-O camera keeping an even more obvious distance between the
swirling/whirling dancers and the audience than its Cinemascope counterpart. We’re
never part of the story or even beckoned to partake: production designer,
Oliver Smith’s idyllic reimagined country life circa 1900, a completely
sanitized and pristine wilderness, devoid of the rugged frontier quality so
essential in our understanding of these lusty/hearty characters. The dancers
perform some fractured Agnes DeMille choreography – DeMille unable to bottle
the essence of her own magic for the film, somehow distilling her stage-bound
terpsichorean brilliance into a cheap mime of its former glory. There’s just no
spark to her hoppity-hoppity /pseudo-balletic kicks and twirls, principally
performed by dancers, Bambi Lynn and James Mitchell during the lengthy – and
alas, tedious – dream sequence.

Ironically,
one of the film’s hindrances is Michael Todd; the man integral in coaxing
Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein from their innate distrust of, and
distaste for Hollywood. Todd may have achieved a minor coup in securing the
rights to produce the first R&H show in Todd A-O. However, it is important
to delineate Michael Todd as a showman rather than a film maker; Todd’s driving
ambition in acquiring the rights to Oklahoma!
merely to show off his newly inaugurated widescreen process developed by
American Optical, giving his patented technology the cache of wildly popular
subject matter for its debut; something for which Todd’s other foray into
widescreen (as co-investor/founder of the cumbersome 3-camera panoramic
process, Cinerama) had failed to do. Even more paradoxically, it was Todd A-O’s
promise of ultra-clarity ‘coming out of
one hole’ and Todd A-O’s startling reproduction of sound, employing a
derivation of Cinerama’s six track magnetic stereo, that attracted Rodgers and
Hammerstein in the first place.

Viewing Oklahoma!today is like being
teleported back to this exhilarating transitional period in movie-making when
technological advancements in sight and sound superseded what was actually
being shown on these bigger-than-life movie screens. Regrettably, Todd A-O’s
failure to gain general acceptance (it proved too costly to retool every
theater in America to accommodate Todd A-O’s unique projection requirements)
necessitated the photographing of Oklahoma!
twice for a more widespread theatrical release: once in Todd A-O, the other in the
streamlined and cost-effective Cinemascope process, already fast becoming the
industry standard bearer. Ultimately,
Todd’s edict to Fred Zinnemann was to ensure the Todd A-O version of Oklahoma! had all the advantages; the
Cinemascope photographed almost as an afterthought, and often after optimal
lighting conditions on location had begun to wane. They really are two separate movies to behold – Zinnemann,
tweaking his staging as he went along, and Robert Surtees’ camerawork acquiring
a modestly more agile approach to the material in the Cinemascope version. Todd
A-O’s big ‘selling’ feature was that
it could mimic the vast expanses of Cinerama without the unwieldy 3-camera
setup; the bug-eye lens capable of taking in a breathtaking 180 degree vista.
Too bad the staging of Oklahoma! did
not lend itself to such visual grandiosity. With the exception of one or two
establishing long shots, the bug-eye would be used sparingly – thus, rendering
moot the whole point of photographing Oklahoma!
in Todd A-O.

Neither
version of Oklahoma! is, at least in
my opinion, a great musical; though the production had its obvious and
undeniable assets to champion. Firstly, we get Gordon MacRae – an ex-Warner
Bros. contract player, elevated to A-list stature as cowboy, Curly herein. With
his rich and melodic baritone, looking sinfully handsome and extremely butch in
his bright orange shirt, ten gallon and chaps, MacRae is the embodiment of
every young cowgirl’s naughty daydream; Joe Studly of the farm sect and just
the sort of man who could teach the pert and rigidly virgin-esque, Laurey
Williams (Shirley Jones) a thing or two behind the barn. MacRae gets the
cowhand’s share of the heavy lifting in Oklahoma!(musically speaking) and he’s more than up to the challenge; breaking into the
R&H songbook with ‘Oh What A
Beautiful Mornin’ (it’s middle verse inextricably omitted from the film –
no ‘cattle standing like statues’ here,
alas), tempting his would-be lover with ‘The
Surrey with The Fringe on Top’ and later, ‘People Will Say We’re In Love’, belting out the boisterous anthem
to the state, ‘Oklahoma!’ and
finally, tempting fate with ‘Poor Jud is
Daid’; a fairly morbid ditty, encouraging surly farmhand, Jud Fry to take
his own life. Oklahoma! is Curly’s
show and MacRae’s performance gives it the required ballast.

The film has
less success with Shirley Jones as the ingénue of the piece in her big screen
debut. Although undeniably in exquisite voice (her haunting and moody rendition
of ‘Out of My Dreams’ will send
chills down the back) – acquitting herself rather nicely of the sob-storied ‘Many a New Day’ too – her trilling
soprano the perfect complement to MacRae in both their pas deux ballad and the
title tune – Jones’ screen presence needs some work. Watching Laurey’s initial
spurns of Curly’s advances is like listening to the shrill screech of
fingernails across a chalkboard; Jones’ clipped delivery of lines like “Hmph…thought you was somebody!”
acquiring a haughty ‘Minnie Mouse’
quality - more laughable than endearing. There isn’t enough of the virgin in
Jones to convey it convincingly as Laurey and the translation becomes something
of wounded sexual frustration, coupled with a schoolgirl’s persnickety
investment in the tease, instead of a sweetly innocent – if fearful – lure
towards this young buck’s truer intentions.

Okahoma!’s supporting cast is superb: Charlotte Greenwood –
whom Rodgers and Hammerstein had desperately wanted for their Broadway show,
assuming the role of Aunt Eller with all the aplomb of a ripe old sage; Gloria
Grahame, shockingly good as the daft and oversexed, Ado Annie Carnes; Gene
Nelson, never better on screen than as hayseed buckaroo, Will Parker; Eddie
Albert, as comically vivacious peddler-man, Ali Hakim; Rod Steiger, a truly
chilling Jud Fry, and finally, Jay C. Flippen as the courtly, Mr. Skidmore and
James Whitmore, as Ado Annie’s caustic and short-fused pa. The best moments in
the film are actually dedicated to one or more of these ancillary performers
rather than the leads; just one of the awkward perplexities in the Sonya Levien/William
Ludwig screenplay. As the audience, we’re much more fascinated by Ado Annie’s
lovelorn plight; struggling to make up her addlepated mind and/or fickle heart
between the devious peddler-man and Will, who really does love her with all his heart – and loins – proving it behind a haystack in the third act.

The first of
Rodger and Hammerstein’s major stage works to be adapted to film; Oklahoma!had its Broadway debut on
March 31, 1943. With its integrated score, stirring choreography by Agnes De
Mille and seemingly effortless social commentary, the play was an immediate
critical and financial success, departing from the conventional wisdom of the Broadway
musical revue: hummable songs sandwiched between that ‘necessary evil’ of a
threadbare plot. Based on Lynn Rigg’s, Green Grows the Lilac, (and original
titled by R&H as Away We Go, Oklahoma!), the play’s
most notable departure from conventions of the day was in its first act finale
– a lavishly appointed and prolonged ‘dream sequence’ ballet – ‘Out of My Dreams’.

This would be
carried over to the film almost verbatim, staged against impressionist
backdrops that, lamentably – at least for the film – tear the viewer out of the
fresh-aired vistas of the Arizona location shoot; replacing the almost tangible
scent of tumbleweed and cornfields with a jarring effect, back to the clinical
trappings of the Broadway stage; Agnes DeMille’s impressionist choreography now
contributing to the overall artifice, but regrettably, also embalmed
artificiality of the moment. On stage, ‘Out
of My Dreams’ was a mesmerizing extension of the already artificially
realized Oklahoman backdrop recreated for the stage; the moody and unsettling
shifts of a dream cum nightmare, amplified and given over to an interplay of
shadow and light, with wildly shifting locales, themes and emotions expressed
in conflict and running the gamut from lover’s elation to sheer terrorization.

It is
interesting to note, with the exception of their 1945 contribution to the
screen, State Fair, Rodgers and
Hammerstein vehemently resisted transforming any of their stagecraft into
movies until the mid-1950's; a decade marred by the decline of the studio
system and the loss of audiences to television; the movies’ no longer exclusively the
purveyors of mass entertainment. In hindsight, Rodgers and Hammerstein’s
apprehensions likely had more to do with the fact they were both constantly
busy producing one play per annum. Arguably, their hiatus from Hollywood
allowed the movie musical to ‘catch up’
to the intellectual gravitas of live theater. But in director Fred Zinnemann’s
case, he brings nothing fresh to Oklahoma! The movie is astonishingly faithful to its
stagecraft roots, although on occasion brutally stagnant as a movie experience.
Nevertheless, the cache of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s own popularity, as well as
that of their pre-sold works made the roadshow run of Oklahoma!at the Rivoli Theater in 1955 the sensational hit of the
season. Ultimately, the Cinemascope version would be screened by a much wider
audience.

Depending on
the version being screened, Oklahoma!
either opens with some sparkling red and white credits set against a jet black
backdrop (Todd A-O version) or with our first glimpse of that famous ‘corn… as high as an elephant’s eye’, the
camera zooming past its towering stalks to reveal a vast, green and fragrant
countryside (also, an obvious backdrop of Arizona mountains), our first glimpse
of Curly astride his noble steed, Blue. Immediately following either main title
sequence, we get Curly singing ‘Oh What A
Beautiful Mornin’ as he approaches the homestead of Aunt Eller, who lives
on the land with her niece, Miss Laurey Williams; also an impertinent and
unkempt farmhand, Jud Fry; the latter, built like an ox and about a sociable as
a long-horned bull stricken with mad cow disease. Curly woos Laurey by enticing her to
accompany him to the boxsocial in his ‘Surrey
with the Fringe on Top’. Even with all his charm and handsomeness it’s a
tough sell; Laurey believing Curly to be too brash for his own good and giving
him the cold shoulder treatment. Aunt Eller is a different story, openly
telling Curly if she wasn’t an old women he’d be having amorous difficulties of
a decidedly different kind with her in Laurey’s stead.

As a show of
her own moral strength (stupidity, is more like it) and conviction, Laurey elects
to go with Jud to the party; Aunt Eller agreeing to Curly’s proposal. To
complicate matters, Curly also asks Gertie (Barbara Lawrence) – an absolutely
obtuse flirt with a hideous cackle for a laugh – to be his date. Aunt Eller
leaves for the train station in her rig to meet Will Parker, who has gone to
Kansas City to pick up some decorative lanterns for the Skidmore party; also,
to win $50 for bronco-busting, the necessary dowry old man, Andrew Carnes
requires in order to very reluctantly grant Will his daughter, Ado Annie’s hand
in marriage. We get a hint of Jud’s ominous predilection for very young girls;
his spying on Laurey through an open window as she undresses and prepares for
everyone’s arrival at the farm, really lending an air of disturbing creepiness;
also foreshadowing the film’s penultimate showdown between Curly and Jud for
Laurey’s affections.

At the depot,
Will warbles ‘Kansas City’ – all about
the wonders he has witnessed while away in this relatively cosmopolitan capital.
He also shares with some of the cowhands lingering at the stationa gift he
bought for Ado Annie’s pa; a kaleidoscope viewfinder known as ‘the Little
Wonder’; apparently featuring several photographs of a scantily clad woman.
What Will does not know, and neither will we until much later on, is the
‘Little Wonder’ also comes with a booby-trap; a hidden switchblade that, when
improperly twisted, shoots like a projectile into the eye of the unsuspecting person
viewing its images. Aside: why such…um… novelty would be invented in the first
place is never entirely disclosed in the movie. Something from the Marquis de
Sade collection, no doubt!

In the
meantime, Laurey has gone to the nearby sump to bathe. Ado Annie arrives,
revealing to Laurey that, in Will Parker’s absence, she has begun a new romance
with the peddler-man, Ali Hakim who, frankly, is only interested in one thing –
and it isn’t love. In short order, Annie lets this cat out of the bag with her
pa too. Mr. Carnes, shotgun in hand, declares that any man plying his daughter
with such obnoxious ‘sweet talk’ ought to consider it as prelude to a marriage
proposal…or else. Will arrives with $50 of gifts for Annie’s pa. With his
natural disdain for cowboys, Mr. Carnes refuses to honor their agreement on a
technicality: $50 in merchandise is not $50.
A quiet rivalry ensues between Will and Ali Hakim; the latter doing everything
in his power to give Ado Annie back to Will and thus avoid having the barrel of
her father’s rifle stuck in his backside for the rest of his days.

Meanwhile,
back at the farm, Laurey and Gertie momentarily get into a skirmish over Curly.
Curly is pleased, as Laurey’s jealousy confirms for him he still has a fighting
chance to win her heart. No kidding…people will say they’re in love. Besides,
he really doesn’t want to be with Gertie anyway. Having purchased an elixir
from the peddler-man, reported to have magical properties of helping one see
into their own future, Laurey takes a snort of the perfumed water and promptly
hallucinates the ‘Out of My Dreams’
ballet. Begun as euphoric elation of falling in love with Curly, the ballet’s
mood turns ugly – then, sinister – as Laurey finds herself standing next to Jud
instead of Curly on her wedding day; fleeing from the alter, but cornered in
Jud’s sty, transformed into a house of ill-repute. Jud paws and tears at
Laurey’s bridal veil and dress; the symbolic deflowering of the virgin begun.
To his own detriment, Curly intervenes. He is mercilessly pummeled and
eventually strangled to death by Jud; Laurey awakening from her horrific
nightmare, only to discover Jud standing over her with a baleful – if slightly
cherubesque - grin; inquiring whether or not she is ready to go to the Skidmore
party.

Immediately following
the Intermission, we cut to Jud, deliberately slowing the pace of his rented
rig with Laurey in tow until the pair is isolated and relatively alone in the
moonlit wilderness. Attempting a grotesque seduction, Jud is surprised when
Laurey instead takes hold of his whip and strikes their horses; the team
panicking, tearing off and away from the chosen path, racing in sweaty
competition with a raging locomotive. In the Todd A-O version, we get some truly
visceral imagery; the bug-eye lens rigged to the undercarriage and careening
left to right, the sound of galloping hooves flooding the soundtrack. Moments
before the horses run into the oncoming train, Jud regains the reigns, leaping
from the rig to subdue his team. Laurey now takes hold of the reigns and whip,
racing the team toward the Skidmore barn-raising where the party is in full
swing. Declaring her love for Curly, Laurey attends the highlight of the night’s
festivities; an auction of home-cooked baskets made by the local girls, sold to
the highest bidder. Jud’s arrival necessitates a confrontation; Jud attempting
to outbid Curly for Laurey’s basket and thus, effectively win the right to
possess her. Unable to match Jud’s bid with cash, Curley sells off his
six-shooter and then his beloved horse to pay for the basket.

Defeated, Jud
recedes into the background, rumors persisting he was involved in a house fire
elsewhere in the county, resulting in the death of a widow woman and her young
daughter, about Laurey’s age. Laurey and Curly are married posthaste. Having
purchased all of the items from Will, originally bought for Mr. Carnes, the
peddler-man avails himself of the responsibility to marry Ado Annie. Will now
has $50 and Mr. Carnes must honor their original agreement. On the eve of
Laurey and Curly’s honeymoon tragedy strikes. The townsfolk, adhering to a very
old custom - forcing the bride and groom to ascend a haystack while they pitch
rice and other sundry homemade items at them in jest - are caught off guard as
a nearby haystack appears to catch fire; thus, drawing the panicked extras away
to put out the blaze. Jud now makes his presence known to Laurey and Curly,
setting fire to their haystack. Curly throws Laurey to relative safety, then
leaps in her defense toward Jud, who is impaled on the knife he intended to use
to gut Curly like a pig.

Having
thwarted the prospect of a double homicide, Curly is nevertheless forced to
endure a trial for Jud’s murder. As Oklahoma is a territory and not a state,
Mr. Carnes assumes the responsibilities of the judge; the trial held inside
Aunt Eller’s parlor where, after some pensive moments of debate, it is decided
Curly acted in self-defense and Jud’s death was more an accident than anything
else. Relieved and desperate to begin their lives as man and wife, Curly and
Laurey depart for the depot as the early dawn breaks with the town’s folk
trailing behind them in their carriages, an ebullient reprise of ‘Oh What a Beautiful Mornin’; the camera
tilting upwards into a vast blue sky dotted in white fluffy clouds.

The ending ofOklahoma!is a wee too optimistic and
rushed; perhaps already aware his lengthy
preservation of the stage show has run well past the allotted time where the
mind and buttocks can be sustained without growing proportionately as numb,director,
Fred Zinnemann, seems a little too anxious
to expedite his final act to its inevitable conclusion. And yet, despite this,
and other misfires made along the way, the virtues of Oklahoma! shine through; the inescapable hummable quality of the
Rodgers and Hammerstein score; the superb performances scattered throughout;
the sumptuousness of Robert Surtees’ glowing cinematography. These conspire
toward delivering a movie that, alas, remains less than greater than the sum of
its parts.

In the late
1990’sOklahoma! had a very limited
70mm revival on the big screen to which I was privy and privileged to attend. I
will say just this; that properly projected in Todd A-O, viewing Oklahoma! on the big screen really did add another dimension to the
experience of it; one that remains absent – or, perhaps, lacking - from any
review of the movie on any home
theater monitor and equipment. Home
theater has come such a very long way in a relatively short amount of time. But
like the ‘smile-box’ versions of This is
Cinerama (1952) or How The West was
Won (1962) or even Ben-Hur
(1959), something is lost in the inevitable paring down of the image for home
video presentation.

Alas, if only
Fox Home Video had given us perfection in hi-def I wouldn’t mind this
shortcoming so much. Sadly, neither version of Oklahoma! currently satisfies. Where to begin? Since it is rather
obvious Fox would prefer us to embrace the Todd A-O presentation (as more time,
money and effort has gone into its remastering this time around) I’ll begin
with a critique of the larger gauge presentation of this iconic R&H catalog
title. In its earliest incarnation, Todd A-O utilized an exposure rate of 30
film frames per second; irreconcilable with present day Blu-ray which has a
standard HD output of 24fps. By utilizing 60i, however, Blu-ray can mimic the
original 30 fps experience. So Oklahoma!on Blu-ray is 1080i rather
than 1080p. It all sounds fine and dandy
in theory. But how does Oklahoma! in
Todd A-O actually look? Well, anemic is perhaps the best way I can describe it.
Colors generally don’t seem to pop as they should. Remember, we’re talking
about 70mm here; a vastly larger canvas to crib from for color density and fine
detail rendering.

Regrettably, I
don’t see a lot of ‘amazing’ imagery
here; more often just a fairly middle of the road rendering with a modicum of
fine detail revealed; also with some sporadic built-in flicker factored in.
Again, at 30fps (or a reasonable facsimile thereof) we shouldn’t be seeing ANY
flicker – period! I’m not exactly certain if, or how much, color balancing was
applied to this transfer; since flesh tones (particularly during sequences shot
at night) have adopted a rather jaundice yellow pallor. Drawing on my own theatrical experience of seeing
the revival of Oklahoma! – and,
while memory does indeed fade and play tricks – I am fairly certain Aunt Eller
then never looked like she needed a liver transplant. So, I have to reiterate
that I don’t believe this Blu-ray accurately reproduces flesh tones at all!

Also, contrast
seems to be an issue. When Curly serenades Laurey with ‘People Will Say We’re In Love’ background information looks
bleached out to say the least, the cast of natural sunlight falling on skin and
clothing creating a muddy mess with glaring white halos. Yuck and no
thanks! The Todd A-O version has a lot
more sequences with ‘stylized’ color than its Cinemascope counterpart; ‘Poor Jud is Daid’ and the harrowing
runaway rig with Laurie and Jud aboard, these sequences used color filters – a
slightly copper-toned one for the former and a magenta for the latter. Alas,
both sequences herein look underexposed and much too dark. Even viewed in a
completely blackened room it’s hard to make out background detail in either
scene.

If I seem
critical of the mastering efforts put forth on the Todd A-O version - get a
grip - because it remains a miracle of loveliness compared to what’s going on
with the Cinemascope version. This has obviously not been given anywhere near
the same consideration as its predecessor and the results are embarrassingly
subpar. We get minor hints of color bleeding throughout, a ringing of reds
(check out the letters in the opening credits) that actually register more like
a garish orange than true red. There’s also a hint of video-based noise. This
is absurd, unless, as I suspect, Fox is cribbing from an old digital transfer
made for the DVD release back in 2005. Owning that DVD release has helped me
spot age-related artifacts reoccurring in the same frame captures on both the
DVD and this Blu-ray, only now, the imperfections are ten times more obvious in
hi-def. Scratches, nicks, chips, etc.

Really?!?!? You didn’t
even run this puppy through a blue wash?!?!?! For shame, Fox! Worse, color
balancing is out the window. Check out ‘Out
of My Dream’ in Cinemascope: Laurie’s flesh is pumpkin orange! Finally, the
last shot in both versions is of the carriages riding off into the sunlight,
the camera tilting upward into a vista of clouds. On the Cinemascope version
there is a horrendous tear that appears and causes the entire middle section of
the screen to fluctuate moments before ‘The End’ appears. This anomaly has
been ever-present on virtually every home video version I’ve ever seen of this
movie: even the old TV broadcasts and VHS tapes lopped off to conform to
1.33:1. It remains glaringly obvious on this Blu-ray. And ‘no’ – I do not
believe this damaged print is the only one currently at Fox’s disposal. Badly
done, indeed!

So, how rough
does the Cinemascope version look? VERY! I can’t image the mentality of
the brain trust responsible for this version. In this condition, Oklahoma!is an ugly film to muddle
through. I use ‘brain trust’ very loosely. The audio on both versions is DTS. The Todd A-O, with its vastly superior
recording methods and six track sonic experience remains vastly superior to
Cinemascope’s 4.0 original audio remix herein. Extras featured have all been
ported over from the aforementioned DVD release. Aside: these are the same
discs Fox Home Video trundled out earlier in the year as part of their
exclusive to Amazon.com, Rodgers and Hammerstein box set. Don’t get me started
on that set’s inadequacies. You can read about them on this blog in a review of
that set.

There are two
audio commentaries – one for each feature; with historian Nick Redman, President
and Executive Director of the R&H catalog, Ted Chapin and actress Shirley
Jones. We also get a few vintage junkets used to promote Todd A-O; a pair of
featurettes, and the ridiculous ‘music juke box’ option; but NO documentary –
or even a featurette on the actual making of the movie. Clicking the ‘restoring
Todd A-O’ feature actually produces a tiny box in the middle of the screen that
scantily explains why this version is 1080i not 1080p. Overall, fairly lousy, if you ask me. Bottom
line: not recommended!

About Me

Nick Zegarac is a freelance writer/editor and graphics artist. He holds a Masters in Communications and an Honors B.A in Creative Lit from the University of Windsor.
He is currently a freelance writer and has been a contributing editor for Black Moss Press and is a featured contributor to online's The Subtle Tea. He's also has had two screenplays under consideration in Hollywood.
Last year he finished his first novel and is currently searching for an agent to represent him.
Contact Nick via email at movieman@sympatico.ca